


The Great Plan

by Demonic_Angel_511



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels like romance novels, Armageddon happened, Crowley fought on Heaven's side, Everyone apart from Aziraphale and Crowley are just mentioned, Exchanging wing feathers is the ultimate expression of love and trust, I am so sorry for writing this, M/M, The angels won the war, War between angels and demons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-16 14:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20847008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demonic_Angel_511/pseuds/Demonic_Angel_511
Summary: They had failed.Armageddon had happened, the earth destroyed in a wave of nuclear explosions, humanity wiped out in the blink of an eye.-----------Or, Aziraphale and Crowley failed to prevent the Apocalypse, and Heaven and Hell have got their war. Facing each other on opposite sides of the battlefield, there is no hiding now.





	The Great Plan

**Disclaimer: I don't own Good Omens or any characters from it, otherwise Aziraphale and Crowley would definitely be a couple.**

\------

They had failed.

Armageddon had happened, the earth destroyed in a wave of nuclear explosions, humanity wiped out in the blink of an eye.

Aziraphale and Crowley were dragged back to Heaven and Hell, who were ecstatic at the day they were waiting for finally coming.

Aziraphale found himself dressed up in glittering white and gold armour, with medals detailing what he did in the last war, and a flaming sword. He was escorted to his platoon, everyone waiting anxiously to face the demons.

Crowley was greeted with sneers, hands pushing him into place and throwing black armour at him. A sword was slapped into his hand and he joined the masses waiting to fight the angels.

Hell and Heaven opened, and the armies clashed.

Everywhere you looked there was ethereal blood, bodies of the dead piled haphazardly out of the way, and swords clashing as angels and demons fought. 

Early on in the battle, Crowley found Aziraphale, leaping between him and a demon blowing Hellfire at him. The two of them fought back to back, cries of "traitor!", coming from the demons that found themselves dying on Crowley's sword.

At first, the angels were wary of him, and Crowley found himself facing both sides, but once he had saved at least five angels, including Gabriel, by shielding them from Hellfire, they grudgingly stopped attacking him.

Crowley fought side-by-side with Aziraphale, the only being ever to rebel twice.

No one knew how long they fought for, but eventually, when the sky had long turned red and the ground was drenched with mixed golden and black blood, a long horn sounded over the battlefield.

"We've won." Aziraphale said woodenly, feeling sick.

All around, angels started celebrating, cheering as the demons who remained alive felt power around them, pulling them to whatever their fate would be.

"Well," Crowley tried to smile. "I guess this is it then." He turned to Aziraphale. "Come on."

Aziraphale looked at him, horrified. "No." He muttered, frantic. "No, there had to be something else! You fought them, you - you - " He trailed off.

Around them, the angels frowned, not knowing what was happening.

Crowley looked at Aziraphale, his face serious. "I'm a demon Az." He smiled wryly. "I can't go into Heaven, I can't live a life as an angel. I've fallen, and you can't reverse that. No one can rise - it's not possible." He shook his head. "And I'd much rather you killed me here than see what they're going to." He indicated the demons who remained. 

The angels gasped.

Aziraphale met his eyes, and for a moment they just stood there.

Then, something seemed to die in his eyes, and he stepped forward, pulling Crowley into a hug. At the same time, the sword in his hands pierced through the demons chest.

Aziraphale pulled away the next moment, removing the sword from Crowley's chest and dropping it as he caught his friend, laying him gently on the ground in his lap.

"G-good." He stuttered, blood bubbling on his lips. "M'dying. I can s-say it now." He met Aziraphale's eyes, his wings bursting out behind him. "I love you angel."

Aziraphale smiled sadly, tears welling in his eyes. In silence, he plucked a feather from his own wings, pushing in into the dying demon's hands. "Of course you wait until now to tell me that you silly man." He gathered him further into his embrace.

"Scared you'd reject me." The other being muttered into his shoulder. 

"I've loved you for nearly six centuries Crowley." The angel whispered.

"That's all I ever wanted to hear." Crowley whispered back, placing one of his black feathers into Aziraphale's hand.

"Sleep Crowley." Aziraphale whispered, a single tear falling from his eyes.

The demon nodded and sought his eyes, gently placing a kiss on his lips. "Love you." His eyes fell closed.

Aziraphale took a breath and bowed his head a second.

Around him, not one angel found it in them to mock him. What they had just seen was unheard of. An exchange of feathers for ethereal beings was the ultimate expression of trust and friendship, hence why almost no one ever did it. For an angel and a demon to do it, and right after a confession of love on one's deathbed…

Well, it was almost like a scene from a romance novel, and most angels - although most would tell you differently - were suckers for a good romance.

Aziraphale let out a sigh, and layed Crowley's body on the floor, snapping his fingers to cast layers of protective wards over it. Then, he turned around, his face stoney.

"Well, let's get to work then. We have a lot to do."

\-----

Later, Aziraphale returned to the battlefield.

He walked across it, casting his gaze over the ground, dried patches of ichor staining it in random patches, and swords still lying abandoned where their wielders fell.

Eventually, he found his way to where he'd left Crowley's body, and pulled down the wards he'd placed. The demon looked almost peaceful, and if it wasn't for the wound in his chest, he'd almost believe he was sleeping.

Until now, Aziraphale had been suppressing his emotions completely, refusing to break down more than he already had, but here, completely alone, he released that control, falling to his knees and sobbing over the dead body of the only being he had ever loved.

He didn't know how long he had cried for before his tears ran dry, but eventually, he dried his eyes and lifted his head, waving a hand over Crowley's body. The blood cleared itself, and his clothes were repaired, hiding any evidence of the wound. Then, with a gentle hand, he took the feather he'd given him and placed it into his wings, filling the gap made by the missing feather currently in his own wings. Then, he lifted the body into his arms again and took off.

Crowley had always liked Alpha Centuri, and as it was the place he'd offered to run away with him to, Aziraphale decided to make that his final resting place.

Now, every time he thought about that offer, he wished he'd taken it. That he'd just agreed to go with Crowley, instead of foolishly believing he could stop the Apocalypse himself.

Then, maybe Crowley would still be alive.

Aziraphale laid his best friend to rest in Alpha Centuri, amongst the stars his friend had helped create, and returned to Heaven.

After that, he kept track of days using the watch that still went by Earth's time, and every week, he'd visit Crowley's grave, mourning his friend.

Other angels would occasionally try to give him jobs to stop it - certain it was bad for his emotional health, but he'd ignore them and go anyway.

Eventually, they gave up.

Aziraphale never stopped blaming himself for Crowley's death, wishing he could turn back time and redo things.

Maybe, if he had done things differently, they'd be sitting in the Ritz now, dining together and toasting to the world while a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square. Maybe Adam and the Them would be safe at home with their parents, happily discussing their part of the Apocalypse and bragging about their achievements. Maybe Sargent Shadwell and Madame Tracey would be moving in together, looking forward to the rest of their lives in retirement. Maybe Anathema and Newt would be contemplating their wedding, looking over the Them and finding their little place in the rest of Tadfield. 

But that's not how things went.

And now, he was the only one of them still alive.

Aziraphale sighed and looked up to where the souls of heaven rested. He could just about spot Pepper, Brain and Wensleydale, forever eleven, sitting under a tree. Adam wasn't with them, and never would be again. Anathema and Madame Tracey were witches, that alone barred them access - and Sargent Shadwell was too blasphemous to get a place in Heaven. He thought Newt got in though, just about.

As though feeling his gaze on them, the three turned slightly. He didn't know if they could see him, but he held their gazes for a few seconds before nodding and turning away, spreading his wings and flying off.

He had work to do.

THE END

**AN: I don't know why I wrote this - it's horrible.**

**I was literally on the brink of crying the entire way through, but the idea just wouldn't leave me alone.**

**I'm sorry if I upset anyone, this fic is really sad.**

**DON'T KILL ME, PLEASE!!!!! **

**Oh well, I hope you enjoyed? That doesn't sound right for this kind of fic….**

**Demonic_Angel_511**


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